Surviving abuse, being free and helping others be free.

Last night my wife and I were invited to attend a fund raiser for families who have either terminally ill children or children who have suffered from a traumatic event, such as a horrific accident that left them severely impaired in some way or another.

These kids’ ages ranged from 4 years old to their twenties. Some have been diagnosed with some form of cancer, while others faced various degenerative, muscular conditions that limited their ability to walk, or move normally. Four of them were present last night, at the fund raiser, to perform on stage singing a song, or playing a guitar. Their courage to come up onstage was amazing. For some of them, this would be a first time event they did something like this, in front a large gathering. The anxiety they felt was acutely evident in their facial expressions, the way some of them stuttered as they attempted to speak to us and the deep breaths they drew in and exhaled into the microphone.

The courage these kids have had to muster up while they and their families faced great difficulties causes me to take pause at what my own life has been like, and the attitudes I have when dealing with the seemingly, petty hardships and temporal challenges I have faced in my life. I have not been diagnosed with a life-threatening disease like cancer, leukemia, a crippling, muscular disease like cerebral palsy, or a traumatic brain injury that the doctors speculated would leave me on a ventilator for the rest of my life. Yet, that is the reality for these young heroes. This is what they and their families face each day. Some of the children don’t make it like the four year old boy, I mentioned at the beginning of this blog. Tragically, he died last year from leukemia. Two of the girls present last night, sang a song they had composed, dedicating it to his memory.

I, like many of us, are facing challenging times. But rather than sitting at home, feeling sorry for myself and stressing over those issues I truly have no real control over, I take the time to volunteer in some way or another to make someone else’s life a little better. The first time I understood how satisfying and fulfilling it was to play a key role in helping someone in a time of great distress, was when I served in the U.S. Army as a combat medic, responding to life-threatening emergencies. I never forgot the looks of relief I got from those needing emergency care during a crisis moment, where their life was in danger.

Soon after I was honorably discharged for the Army, I began to experience PTSD and fell into an emotional tailspin that lasted three years. I was in an inescapable, dark pit. Every single waking moment, was a relentless battle, struggling to keep my wits and not having an emotional breakdown while I was out with other people. I got no help, because I didn’t know where to go for help. So I struggled and languished dealing with anxiety attacks and depression, until one day, I had a vision in my heart from God, of where I was…it was an image of the incarcerating , dark pit I had fallen into. I felt that He had shown me that He would lead out from within myself, if I would reach out to others and help them.

So that’s what I began to do. It wasn’t easy…it was very hard at first. But as I became active in volunteer work, visiting the sick and terminally ill in hospitals, feeding and encouraging the homeless living in the streets, counseling and encouraging those incarcerated in prison, my perspective of my life began to change. I had developed an healthy sense of self esteem, that I was valuable in God’s eyes, as He used me to speak His words of comfort and healing to others who had gone through much more difficult hardships and challenges in their own lives. It is said, that one who has experienced great adversity and hardships, speaks many languages. I am intimately familiar with what that means. A deep sense of compassion, is born out of great adversity. I speak compassion fluently. Do you? I hope so.

In the support group where I act as a co-facilitator, to help men recover from the traumatic effects of past abuses and traumas they experienced, I have seen how devastating injuries to the soul can be and how far reaching and deep these wounds can be and how long they can linger and reek havoc in one’s life when not confronted and dealt with. There are so many who desperately need help in finding their way out of the deep pits of pain and despair, but don’t where to go for help. Worse, they feel they are abandoned by God and humanity and believe they are forced to deal with their debilitating issues on their own. There are so many people, who have yet to realize the great, life-changing impact they can have in the lives of others, if they would only volunteer in some place.

My intent isn’t to lessen or diminish the severity of what you might be dealing with in your own life. Anything we experience, that can cause us deep distress and suffering is significant, because we are going through it, and it has disrupted our ability to function normally in life. But sometimes, as God did with me, the path of healing we need, will require us to get involved in the lives of others who are going through unimaginable challenges, far more difficult than what we are experiencing. It is in those beautiful life lessons that God uses, to teach us…and show us how much He loves us and the many others around us, by what we allow Him to do in us and through us, for the well being of others. Be an angel God uses to reach out and touch someone else’s life.

Share this:

Like this:

We lived in a two-story apartment building, in the late sixties, in a Chicago suburb called, Logan Square. The apartment was on Belden Avenue, located across the street from Charles Darwin Elementary School. I’ve seen recent, Google Earth pictures of the building. It still sits quietly, among the other adjacent buildings, as though they are old neighbors, perpetually cursed to stay bound next to one another for the rest of time, on that street.

It stands defiantly tall, pale and menacing, as it has always been. The face of its frontal exterior, looks gothic, dark and lifeless, like a dormant monster, quietly observing the living just beyond its boundary. Its corners are squared and sharply contoured, there is nothing soothing about it. There is an intrusive vine that spreads itself over most of the frontal exterior, at certain times of the year, like a natural parasitic mask, growing to conceal its ugly face. When I saw it for the first time after forty-eight, some odd years ago, I thought to myself, “There you are, I remember you,” as though I was revisiting an old, adversary.

After so many years, my journey is now coming full circle. A return to a time that brought so much pain into my young life as a boy. Why am I going back? Why subject myself to recollecting such painful memories of my parents’ late night shouting matches, images of my mother’s skinny frame sobbing over the kitchen sink uncontrollably; the serious auto accident we were involved in, one late night, as my father drove my bothers and I to the airport, where my aunt Miriam’s husband, Richard, would accompany my brothers and I on an Easter Airlines flight to my fathers’ family, in Miami, Florida?

Because this time, I am on a new journey, moving towards wholeness and healing. I am no longer languishing in the deep, mired pit of the crushing weight of guilt, shame and despair, coupled by the toxic poison of bitter unforgiveness and incarcerating bitterness that left me so completely crippled. No more. I am on a new quest, where God now walks along my side, keeping His loving, tender and empowering hand upon my shoulders, guiding me along each step of the way. My journey continues…

Share this:

Like this:

This is a brand new blog site. It is a new work in progress, in which I will share some of the experiences I have faced throughout my life, some funny, some bad and painful, some of the people I have met along the way, some good, some bad. More to come.

Share this:

Like this:

Hello, my name is Dante. Like Dante Alighieri, who wrote the “Divine Comedy”, also known as, “Dante’s Inferno”. Yes, I get asked many times, “Your name is Dante, as in Dante’s Inferno?”. Yes. The spelling of my last name even bears a close resemblance in spelling as his. And Like Dante, I have stories to tell. Considering some of the valleys I have walked through, I have earned my name.

The purpose of this blog site is simple:
I will share my stories, insights, and wisdom I have gained over the years so that others may see my foot steps embedded in the path of the journey they are on now. For some, that valley is named, Depression. For others, it’s name is Fear or it’s evil cousin, named Anxiety. For others, the name is vague, but it’s reality is just as real as the others. Not all of my stories, are of a dark consequence, some are inspiring and some are quite humorous.

No matter how dark the storms we face, or how black the night may become, the light of the new day, will always shine through in the end.
Walk with me in this brief moment of the vapor of life we share together. Let us be friends. For no man in his right mind, desires to be alone, but to share what gifts God has bestowed upon him, with others.
I am your friend, Dante.